


never get back to you

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU- Surfing, Alternate Universe, M/M, Surflock, is that even a real AU, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:57:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au in which john and sherlock live on an island off the coast of portugal, sherlock still solves crimes and john still has a lot of issues. yeah. idk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never get back to you

**Author's Note:**

> just for a little fun! don't know if it'll go anywhere, but yeah. here you go~ ALSO this is un-beta'd so sorry for that

The sea is calm. 

Generally speaking, John regards the ocean as a force to be respected. Something much larger, much more powerful than himself. He'd forgotten that, once, and paid the price. Now he has the scars to remind him. 

But, when the water's calm and gently lapping at the shore, barely skimming over his toes as he sinks them into wet sand, it's much more difficult to remember. It seems too peaceful, too relaxing. Too unlikely that at any time the waves could swell up and take him under, throw him against rocks and sharp coral that could tear a lesser man to shreds. Have torn lesser men to shreds. Will tear lesser men. Not that John really thinks all that highly of himself, but if he's got anything going for him, it's probably the fact that he managed to survive the current and the bashing. The anger of the sea. The therapist he saw after the accident told him he ought to write about it, but he's never been much of one. Maybe that could change, though. 

"Good morning for it," a voice says next to him, and John blinks, looking up from the sun peeking over the horizon to the pair of long, pale legs, clad in faded grey trunks and a tank top that's certainly seen better days. He doesn't let his gaze linger on the arms, the freckled tops of Sherlock's shoulders. No, too distracting. Too confusing. 

"Guess so," John says, digging his hand into the sand right next to his thigh. He looks away as Sherlock folds in on himself, sitting himself into the sand next to John. He's not sure how both of them ended up here, some island off the coast of Portugal with nothing connecting them home except each other. Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic. John hadn't even known Sherlock when he ended up here. He'd just needed to get away, so he'd bought a ticket with most of the money he had left and got on the plane. He only met Sherlock through an old friend, someone who'd mentioned they knew someone who lived where he was headed. The rest is history, or something. 

"You ought to get back out there, you know," Sherlock says, pulling John back to the present. Right, the present, on a beach with Sherlock, the sun just beginning to rise, the tide pulling further and further out. John feels his own mouth twist unpleasantly, but he knows Sherlock won't notice. Or, no, he'll notice. He just won't know what it means. 

"Guess so," he repeats, because he really doesn't want to talk about it. Sherlock knows, of course, knew without asking, but John still told him the story anyway. "Maybe not today, though." 

He sees Sherlock's shoulders move in his periphery. "Can't let it hold you back forever," he says, unfolding and extending himself to stand again. John feels a hand on his shoulder, just briefly feels the warmth seep through the fabric of his shirt and into the perpetually aching muscle. It's gone in the next moment, and so is Sherlock, leaving John staring at the water, watching the swell of the waves beginning to pick up. 

He stands, follows Sherlock's footprints back into their shack.

Maybe tomorrow, then.


End file.
